Custody of the Heart
by Bren Gail
Summary: She had never attempted to fix him, to change him. She took whatever he gave her and she cherished it. She took him as whatever he decided to be that day, whether it a grumpy bear or playful kid. She simply loved him and all that it entailed; he in return did in kind. However, she could no longer take any more of the secrecy surrounding their relationship. Sensitive subject.
1. Custody of the Heart

**Custody of the Heart**

They had been seeing each other for well over a year, not quite two, but almost; living together just under nine months, but no one knew that Nell Jones and G. Callen was a couple. Not even Hetty, or rather she had never let on that she knew that her Special Agent in Charge and her Intelligence Analyst were more than friend and colleague. Nell had known from the start that whatever it was that she and Callen shared would be secret, behind closed doors. He was a private man who held his emotions in check and everyone at arm's length; very few people had infiltrated his ironclad barriers, and even less had touched his guarded heart, but she had easily done both.

He was forty-three to her twenty-three, but their age had never been an issue, if anything it made their bond stronger. She was independent, mature, and fiercer than what someone her age could handle. He was jaded, broken, and stubborn; someone his age would have wrote him off as a lost cause, not worth the time or patience to fix him. Perhaps that was how and why Nell had been his longest and strongest relationship, because she had never attempted _to_ fix him, to change him. She took whatever he gave her and she cherished it. She took him as whatever he decided to be that day, whether it a grumpy bear or a playful kid. She understood him. She wanted him. She needed him. She respected him. She simply loved him and all that it entailed; he in return did in kind.

However, she could no longer take any more of the secrecy surrounding their relationship. She wanted what she knew she could not have. She wanted more, but more had never been in the agreement. She wanted to be that girl whose boyfriend held her hand in public. She wanted to be that girl who smiled from ear to ear as she walked in stride with her boyfriend as they each had an arm wrapped around the other's waist. She wanted her family to know why she was now always happy during their weekly Skype sessions instead of the depressed homesick girl that she had been before she and Callen had started seeing each other.

She wanted his best friend, her best friend, and their friends to know why they mostly refrained from team outings. Why when they did go out as a team, why neither searched for a hook-up, and why all attempts to match make for they had always failed. She did not want to mark him as hers, oh no, it was never about marking territory or even claiming him as hers. She simply wanted everyone to know that she loved him and he loved her. She wanted to be that girl who did not feel like a dirty little secret.

Most of all, she wanted a family. She wanted a child. She wanted to have _his_ child. Her yearnings were not fleeting whims or caused by the birth of her newest nephew, Micah, whom was three weeks old. She had had these thoughts for over a year, but had never approached Callen over any of them. She had known that pushing the boundaries that were set would surely spell disaster, be the end of them, but she also knew that sometimes certain things are worth the risk. Having a child, his child, was now more than ever a risk that she must take to communicate her desire, because there was no other option for her, she wanted and needed to satisfy the deep-seated yearn in her heart and womb. The custody of her heart had been hijaked; it no longer belonged to her or Callen.

After a week of serious contemplation and a few false starts, she finally broached the subject late on a Friday night, early Saturday morning. They had left the office several hours ago, around eight. He had been roped into going out with the team to a club, while she feigned a headache. She had went straight home, called her sister who had known that something was wrong with her baby sister, and confessed everything. Her sister, Nora, had been understandably hurt that Nell had kept something so serious as a long-term relationship secret, but she came to understand it, though not quite accept it. The conversation with her sister had given her the extra confidence and push for her to approach Callen about what she had discussed with her sister.

She had soaked for an hour in the Jacuzzi that Callen had installed in the master bath, almost immediately after he had bought the house. After finally emerging from the relaxing bath, she had slipped on a pair of generic blue cotton pajamas bottoms and a white camisole. Her eyes hurt from the crying that she had done off and on the past few hours and her bloodshot eyes revealed that she had done so. The Grandfather clock that they had found a few months ago at a flea market that she just had to have, chimed one. She sat in the dark, in the living room, on the large comfortable sofa that they had bought shortly after she had moved in. She rested her back against the large armrest, as she brought her knees closer to her chest while she hugged them, and rested her forehead on her knees. She had long given up reading the book she had tried to read earlier, it laid on the kitchen counter, beside a hardly touched glass of red wine. She had tried to use liquor courage to help her feel more at ease, but decided that alcohol use, especially right now, was an unwise choice for all involved.

The front door opened and the light flickered on. When she heard him close the door and lock it, was when she finally looked up and took in his appearance. He was tired, exhaustedly so, but he looked sober. She needed him completely sober for her to talk to him, just as she had decided that she must be sober.

"Nell, baby, what's wrong?" He asked concerned as he walked toward her and sat beside her. His right outer blue jean clad thigh touching her bare toes as he placed his right arm on the large cushioned back of the sofa and with his left hand took her right in his. Their fingers intertwined out of instinct.

She ignored his question as she smiled a closed mouth smile that did not meet her eyes. She asked, "Did you have fun?"

"Nell, what's wrong?" He asked, his tone now curious, worried, and a twinge scared. She only ever ignored his questions or changed the subject when something was seriously bothering her. "Don't give me the headache excuse, because I knew when you told Deeks you'd take a rain check that it was bullshit, just as it is now. What is wrong?"

She blinked and swallowed, hoping that she had cried all of her tears earlier, so that none would fall now, "Who was the DD?"

"Nell," He slowly said, "Why does that matter?"

"It just does, okay," She said, her voice cracking as if she were crying, though no tears fell. She asked as her blood shot hazel eyes bore into his tired blue, "Please, G, answer my question."

"I was and before you ask, no not even a sip of beer," He answered warily wondering whether he should have lied and said that Sam had been the designated driver. "This is the last time, I'm going to ask, and if you don't answer me, I'll launch an investigation, _what is wrong_?"

"I told my sister," She confessed, but he needed no elaboration, because he understood what she meant.

"Okay." He replied, not seeing an issue with that, honestly he was constantly surprised that she had not yet told any of her family. They had been together longer than most married couples in Los Angeles had.

She blinked rapidly in shock. They had agreed that they would not tell anyone about their relationship. "Okay?" She repeated, "Okay? You're okay with my sister knowing about us?"

"Sure," He answered as he shrugged. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because we agreed to see each other in secret," She answered slowly.

"Nell, we made that agreement two years ago." He retorted, "And besides, your family has a right to know what their little Nell is up to. They must worry about you being alone in Los Angeles, now they won't worry as much."

"So would you be okay with the team knowing?" Nell asked casually, attempting to conceal how much the answer to the question truly meant to her.

"They already know," He answered, eyeing her suspiciously, not understanding the abrupt change of mood or tone.

"What?" She sputtered, "How? When?"

"They must know, Nell," He answered, almost amused at her reaction, "We've been together two years and besides if they didn't know before, they found out about us once you moved in. They're trained Federal Agents that are top of the line investigators, I'd be more surprised, if they did _not_ know."

"I haven't told anyone that I moved." She retorted, "Hetty doesn't know that I moved; my address is the same in the system. My mail has gone to a P.O. Box the entire time that I've lived in Los Angeles."

"When are you going to realize that Hetty knows all?" He asked, arching an eyebrow in amusement. "Besides, on the rare chance, that she did not know, she found out when I gave her your change of address form. She must have not submitted it electronically. It's probably in a locked drawer somewhere."

"Do what?" She asked, shocked and confused, "My what? Why?"

"When you agreed to move in," He answered, "I told Hetty and gave her your change of address form, because Hetty needs to know where her people live, in case of an emergency, or tragedy, or just because. After everything that happened with Dominic, remember I told you about him?" When she nodded, he continued, "We're all hyper aware of the importance of knowing where someone is off duty, mostly knowing where they live." He sighed, "If you want us to make an announcement to the team, we can. I don't see how doing so will make a difference, but sure, we'll do it tomorrow, invite everyone over for a party or something."

She squealed happily, as she hugged him briefly and kissed him excitedly, before pulling back and asking in disbelief, "A party? Seriously? Isn't that a bit too much for you?" She paused, as he furrowed his brow, she continued, "I mean, a bit personal? It isn't a secret that you don't like to socialize for long periods of time, especially here, at your home."

He shook his head and smiled, "I've been _socializing_ with you, here, for two years, babe," He snickered when she blushed at his innuendo. It amused him how there was still a touch of innocence to her when he knew from experience that she was anything but. He had thought that after everything that they had done, how long they had been together, that he would have corrupted her by now, but she was his light, and thus incorruptible. "But seriously, babe, I'll do anything to make you happy," He paused before lightly joking, "Even if that means suffering several hours on our day off listening to Kensi and Deeks bicker."

She bit her lip, became silent, and the only movement she did was the biting of that bottom lip that enticed him. After a few minutes of silence, he attempted to kiss her, their lips touched, but she did not reciprocate, and he immediately pulled away. It was as if she had frozen. She was entirely too stiff. The silence became foreboding and daunting.

Another minute passed before he gave up trying to figure out what was wrong with her by only observing, he asked almost apprehensively, "What?"

"It's just that talking with Nora, it got me thinking," She said, almost wincing at how she blamed her forthcoming question on her sister and nephew instead of the true reason, "What do you think about kids?"

He sighed, both relieved and petrified that she had finally started the conversation. He had known for months that she wanted a child; it was nothing that she said or did. She took her birth control regularly and he took the extra step to caution against a surprise or scare. What had given her away was the sparkle in her eye, the first time she had meet Sam's little girl; which was a year ago at a barbeque at Sam's house that was jointly held for her and Deeks' second year anniversary with the team. It was cruel of him, he knew, but he had hoped that it was a passing fancy of hers. It was crueler of him to ask her to move in with him, take another step in their relationship, when he knew that his hope was futile, because her heart was set. Although he knew that his hope was for naught, he still hoped that she would change her mind, that _he_ could change her mind.

"I love Sam's little girl." He answered ambiguously, hoping that she would ask him whether Nora and her three children could come visit, instead of the question he knew was coming, "Besides her and the three months with Alina when I was a kid, I don't have a lot of experience with them, why?"

"Would you be averse to having one?" She asked, meeting eye contact, before she looked away and quietly added, "With me?"

"I have nothing to offer a child, Nell." He answered honestly. He was perfectly equipped to be an Uncle, a favorite uncle, but he felt, as if he was not at all, father material.

She blinked, lightly gasped, and untangled her hand from his.

"Nell," He whispered as he tried to retrieve her hand, but she stood and walked to the fireplace. He stood and followed her. He placed his strong, currently shaky hands on her shoulders, and squeezed them comfortingly. "That has nothing to do with how I feel about you." He laid random kisses on her neck and bare shoulders. She flinched at each kiss as she bit her right fist from crying out, from yelling and screaming at him in frustration. "I would do practically anything for you, turn around," Reluctantly, she did turn around. "I love you," He declared as he bent to kiss her. The kiss was slow, methodic, and bittersweet. He tasted the goodbye on her lips and he pressed his lips firmer against hers, to persuade her, to reassure her, as if his kiss could tell her all of what he could not verbally. Finally he pulled away, placed his forehead on hers, stared into her hurt filled hazel eyes, and unknowingly delivered the final nail in the coffin of their relationship, "I would die for you, baby, but don't ask this of me."

"I love you, but I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry," She confessed as silent tears that physically hurt to cry began to slide down her face; her voice raw with emotion, of disappointment, of love, "I thought I could, I wanted to, but I'm not strong enough. I want what I want and I can't stop it." Her voice broke and as it did so, his heart shattered in realization that she was leaving him. "God knows that I won't stop it."

His eyes glistened with unshed tears as they pleaded with hers to stay, but he refused to beg vocally, he refused to ask her to stay. He should not have to and he would not ask her to stay, because his love, her love, their love should have been enough to for her to stay. He knew that they could overcome this obstacle in their relationship that she would learn to accept that her love for her nieces and nephews would be enough, just as he had long accepted that he would forever be Uncle Callen to Sam's little girl, and never Daddy to his own.

"I need you to want a child," She cried brokenly. He winced. She took a shaky breath and swallowed. She continued, heartbreakingly so, "But, I won't ask you to be a father to my child."

"Nell, I love you," He blinked and three lone tears fell from his blue eyes. "Don't do this. _Please_!"

One word spoken out of heartbreaking desperation was not enough for her to change her mind; she left with a broken heart while he stayed with regrets.

Sometimes, no matter how much your loathe it, how much you do not want to; you have to accept that you are wrong. That night they both had been wrong, but neither would acknowledge that they were, because to do so would admit fault for the abrupt end of their love story.

It was easier to blame the other.

It hurt less, too.

Or so they told themselves.

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_**Thank you for reading.**_


	2. Custody of the Heart, 2

**_Originally, Custody of the Heart, was supposed to be a one shot, that was going to be followed up with an angst ridden one shot sequel set five years into the future, titled Custody of the Soul, that reflected on how one choice could forever change your life and the people around you. How, even the best of intentions, the 'right' decisions, are the wrong decisions. Sometimes, there are situations that are truly no win for either side. However, because of the wonderful feedback that y'all gave, and the prickling of the thorn in my shipper heart over writing a Nallen break up fic, I've scraped the sequel and added onto the plot from the ending of the original one shot. _****_Perhaps I will write the original sequel as an alternate universe/ending eventually, but for now this story universe will be created._**

**_I hope that you enjoy the long, bumpy, and at times heartbreaking journey that Callen and Nell will struggle to face as individuals and as a couple as they cope with the reasoning behind Nell's decision to leave._**

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**_WARNING_****_: Reader discretion is advised due to the sensitive subject matter of this story. Please keep in mind that there will be a happy-ending, even though rollercoaster ride there is laced with heartbreak, frustration, and despair._**

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**Chapter Two**

The radio clock blinked 4:18 AM. It had started lightly raining thirty minutes ago, but Nell continued to drive. She had driven around for hours with no destination in mind; after all, she had nowhere to go. The longer she drove, the more she thought about what she had done. She had broken not only her own heart, but she had broken Callen's heart; something that she had sworn never to do. It hurt to cry. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. It hurt to stay up right. It hurt to keep her eyes open.

When the light rain turned to a downpour, she pulled over and parked her car in the emergency lane of the long stretch of highway. It was dark, but the few auto-mobile headlights that passed every so often and lights from surrounding buildings just off the highway kept the highway dimly lit, just enough light to drive safely, but even in the most perfect weather conditions, she should not be driving during her current emotional state. Oblivious to a squad car slowing as it approached her car, parking several yards away, before finally driving off.

She placed her forehead on the steering wheel and struggled to breathe. She was having a panic attack. She was no stranger to them so she knew, in theory, what to do to calm her, but she was struggling to execute every trick she had learned. It had been months since her last attack, before she had moved in with Callen. She was hyperventilating dangerously so. The thought that she was going to die briefly crossed her mind. The thought pushed her to fight harder to gain control of her breathing. She had everything and more to live for. She refused to end her and her baby's lives on the side of the road, hours after breaking up with him so that she _could_ have a life with her child. She had chosen her unborn baby over her heart, the man she loved, the baby's father. However, if she were honest, her heart had not been Callen's for two weeks now. As soon as she saw the word pregnant on the high tech home pregnancy test, her heart ceased to be Callen's or even her own; with one word, the custody switched to be that of the miracle she carried.

Almost in control, but breathing heavily, still gasping every other breath for air, she tried to find her phone, her fingertips touching an electronic keychain with three keys on it in the passenger seat. She cried out in frustration, which almost put her into another panic attack. She had left both her phone and tablet at home. No, she corrected herself, that house was no longer her home it was his, had always been his.

She laughed, ironically, at herself; she looked for her phone, but she had abruptly and rashly left, not even taking the time to put shoes on, just barely taking the time to grab the keys from the decorative bowl beside the door. He had let her go. She knew he would, she was not one prone to dramatics to get what she wanted. This issue between them was nothing that a temper tantrum could solve; nothing, but a miracle would solve it, and even then she doubted that it would, because, after all, he did not _want_ their, her miracle. She had left, because it was the only option when he refused to move forward. Their lives had paralleled two years ago, but one factor had changed, and it separated not only their relationship, but also the life that they were developing, had built.

She stared at the keychain in the passenger seat. It mocked her, accusing her of stealing them so that he would not come find her, come looking for her. She had not taken his keys on purpose; why would she when she knew that he would not search for her? It had been an accident. Her keys had been underneath his and she had grabbed both sets. She placed her forehead back unto the steering wheel as she hugged her mid-section. Her breathing slowly eventually became steadier.

Tears both unshed and cried clouded her vision. She tightly closed her eyes, but she could not bring herself to want this to be a nightmare that she could wake from, though she desperately wanted their argument, their conversation earlier to have ended different. If someone had told her two years ago that she would be the one to leave, she would have looked at them in surprise that their relationship would last that long. She had thought that they would have a friends-with-benefits sort of relationship for a few weeks, a few months if they were lucky. Oh, how they had been lucky, the friends-with-benefits had almost immediately transformed into a steady relationship, however veiled in secrecy the relationship had been, it was steady until the heartbreaking end.

As she rested her head against the steering wheel, cradled her mid-section, and concentrated on her breathing she began to reminisce about their relationship; the first time they had met; when colleague became friend, which quickly became lover; lover simultaneously become significant other; significant other in the shadows of their daily life, behind closed doors, never at the office. For almost a half hour she reflected on the memories they had made before she switched to weaving the what-if's and the why-couldn't-it-be's. Just as she allowed herself to dream of the first time Callen would hold their baby, she was shaken out of her misery.

THUD!

POUND!

THUD!

SCRAPE!

She jumped at the sounds and screamed out in terror when she looked out the blurry from the pouring rain, driver side window.

A man in a grey hooded sweatshirt with a dark ballcap tried to get into the car, the locked door prevented him from doing so, as he held at an angle a long cylinder shaped weapon of some sort in his right hand near his head.

She fumbled with the keys and tried to turn the ignition to drive off, but froze when over the pounding rain and sounds of flowing traffic, she heard the man yell her name, and then he yelled her nickname as a bright light blinded her.

A nickname only one man had ever used.

_Nell Bell._

Neither noticed the Mercedes parked several miles away under an overpass.

The same Mercedes that, three hours ago, had started to tail her.

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_**Thank you for reading. I appreciate all of the readership, alerts, favourites, and reviews.**_


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